It's in the genes

Of all my children, Max carries the most DNA from my side of the family. He is almost the spitting image of my uncle, cousin and grandfather. But today, I saw myself in him more clearly than ever. It just so happened that I was on the phone, which, of course, triggered screaming from the ends of the earth. I finished up my phone conversation, but the screaming didn't subside. In fact, it grew louder and more hysterical by the minute. So, I poked my head out the front door to see if I could determine how severe the maiming was. I heard, rather than saw, poor Max, who was standing on a large rock on the front part of our property, screaming "SNAKE, SNAKE, SNAKE!" That's when I felt the hysteria start to rise inside of me as well. I kept it together long enough to get Max safely to the porch. But, as he gulped for breath and I tried to determine if he had been bitten (which, thankfully, he hadn't), I realized the snake-fearing genetics run deep.

However, I think Max recovered from the experience much more quickly than I did. And, he actually thought it was cool to look at the snake pictures online to see if we could figure out what kind it was, whereas those pictures made my skin crawl. My only consolation is that from his description, it appears not to have been a poisonous snake. At least that's what I'll be telling myself as I try to get some sleep tonight.